What is your full name?
He stands, poised and unmoving, mere feet in front of the door, a small and mysterious smile fixed on his face as he observes the speaker. There is a choice to be made here - to tell the truth, or the truth. He comes to a decision, though, after only a second, offering a polite bow, "Sebastian Michaelis." He doubts they could comprehend what he had been called before. Mortal minds are so frail, it's amusing. Even so, what he says is not a lie. His little master has named him for the duration of their contract, even if it was the name of a dog it is still his for the time being. Sebastian supposes he could have ended up with something far more distasteful than the hand-me-down moniker of a family pet.
Where are you from? Tell us about your home town.
Oh? He brings a finger to his lips, to stifle the laugh and keep his smile from faltering. His home town, he cannot begin to describe the place in a way humans can understand. "It's...the sort of place one needs to visit to understand." And so many of them do eventually; corrupt souls outnumber the pure by scores, after all. He's taken a liking to London, though - the animals alone are far better. There is nothing like the common domestic cat in his world and that is incredibly disappointing. "It's certainly nothing like your fine city, though." He is not fond of Ipsum; or, more accurately, he is not fond of being stuck in a place that will render it impossible to complete his current contract as it stands. He is not foolish enough to believe the young Earl will agree to renegotiate their terms.
Tell us about your social group. Friends, Coworkers, Allies.
There is a casual shrug offered as his hand drops, clasping his hands behind his back once more, "My current master is the young Phantomhive, he has quite a long way to go but I believe he will make a fine Earl." For as long as he has left in life, anyway. The boy is willfull, cunning, and, most interestingly, an imposter. He had thought it would be easy, for the boy to slip into the role, to steal an identity and title - and it really was, for a while. Pity the real one had to surface again, it did so complicate matters. Although, Sebastian cannot be sure how legitimate a walking corpse's claim to any title could be.
"The manor staff includes Mei-Rin, the maid," and impeccable sniper, though she's an absolute disaster with those glasses on, "Finnian, our gardener," and resident strongman human experiment, quite destructive at first, though he's reigned that in for the most part. At the very least, Sebastian no longer finds himself cleaning up behind the boy each and every day. "Bard, our chef," and explosives expert, though he should probably never be allowed around actual food. The man is a disaster in the kitchen. "Tanaka, the house steward and my predecessor," a good man, as far as humans go, and a source of much knowledge regarding the role of a butler, "And Snake, our footman, rescued from a very unsavory traveling circus." Strange boy, but he's proven capable and his affinity with snakes has been quite useful.
There are others, the visiting prince and his own servant Agni - the only human Sebastian may ever come close to considering anything like a friend. There are also a host of others they have encountered repeatedly, but few warrant mention.
Do you have a significant other? If so, tell us about them.
Were they joking? He pulls on a flustered face, offers a small embarrassed laugh, even manages to conjure a pale flush in his cheeks, hands coming up in front of him, "Oh! No, my work keeps me far too busy for that. The young master requires my dedicated attention." Because he's a needy little brat who seems to prefer to keep him close. Perhaps the boy worries what might happen if he's left to his own devices for more than the span of a night?
What is your ideal date?
His demeanor shifts, the flustered look swiftly replaced by a sly smirk. Crossing his arms in front of him, he brings an index finger to his chin, head tilting slightly, "Why? Are you interested?" It is worth the look on their face at the sudden change in him, "The young master does retire early." He's quite sure they would not enjoy his idea of an ideal date - in involves far too much blood, too much rough treatment for most humans, and there is no guarantee they will make it out of the evening alive. He has little desire for involving romance or emotions, and rarely an interest in the usual human-style couplings, though he has no issue resorting to such when it may benefit him.
What is your life's ambition?
"To serve my master." He returns to that neutral, polite stance from the beginning, the little smile reappearing. It isn't even a lie, really. He's had many masters, and will have many more, and it is simply what he does. He contracts, he serves, he consumes. A demon has to eat eventually, after all. The boy has grown in many ways since they met and he finds himself oddly proud of the young Earl. Such a devious little human, he's certain to be delicious.
Do you have any regrets?
This is becoming tedious, and keeping up the facade is becoming dull. It has a purpose in their own world, but here? Does it matter, truly? It is a new world, with new rules and, perhaps, a demon is no more exotic than anything else they may pass on the street. "I'm not sure there is a man or beast alive without at least one." For the most part, he regrets nothing. Some days, he regrets accepting a contract from a child, more recently he has come to regret not watching the sacrificial corpse burn to cinders. It would have saved them so much trouble and, maybe, saved Agni. For a human, he was not half so annoying to be around as most, and he could put up a fairly decent fight.
Tell us about any hobbies you have.
He's drifted forward a step, but faster than the human eye can see and they do not seem to notice. "Reading, I suppose. Caring for stray cats. Political manipulation," the tiny smile grows, slowly, "Assassinations." His gaze is fixed, watching their reaction carefully, "Murder and mayhem at the behest of my master." Oh that's his favorite. Getting to let loose and rip something apart. The spray of red, the screams, the terror, it's invigorating.
What is your fondest memory?
The air in the room grows heavy, an invisible aura of darkness originating from the demon. He's grown bored with the questioning, it is more important to find his master and ensure the boy's safety. "Do you really want to know? Ask once more and I'll tell you, but do think carefully as I'm not sure it would be wise to press the matter." There are so many, and almost all soaked in gore. Some from past contracts, some from the present, and mixed in the grisly grab bag of favored moments there are, a few, more innocent. Daily life around the Phantomhive Manor, mundane tasks carried out in the presence, and guise, of humans, such things that once so confused a certain annoying Reaper upon viewing the film of his long life.
Tell us the first item you think of in your room. Why that item?
It happens again when they aren't looking, he moves forward, a full foot this time. "I suppose the wardrobe. It's the only place I can hid a stray cat without the young master finding it." He cannot keep it in there long, and he must ensure there is no trace of hair or dander on his clothing when he returns to the boy's side, but it is not impossible to house a perfect little feline in there for a short amount of time. He does not spend enough time in the room to have any attachment to much within it, not that he would anyway. The things in there are simply objects and are only useful to him for as long as he remains by the boy's side and within the manor.
What is your morning routine?
Well, this is an easy one. "My mornings involve getting the manor staff on task, preparing tea and breakfast for my young master, planning the day's itinerary, and getting the Earl ready for the day." His morning routine involves making sure the boy's morning routine runs smoothly, from waking to breakfast to bathing to dressing. Although, at his age, he really should be able to dress himself. Sebastian sometimes wonders if the boy just likes the attention, enjoys being fawned over even a little. A power trip, perhaps? Even so, the aggressive attitude is...well, if he were human, his opinion on the matter would be considered downright depraved considering the boy's age. Human morality is such a funny thing - everyone believes theirs to be the right view.
Do you prefer sun rise or sun set?
Does it really matter? Time means so little to him, really. "Sunset, I suppose." At the very least, it signals the start of the few hours he gets to himself. The humans of the manor in bed, he is left to his own devices if he has no orders to carry out under the cover of night. And it is so much easier to move in the dark, so much harder to be spotted when he does need to venture out for one reason or another.
If you could eat one thing for the rest of your life, what would it be?
There is a dark chuckle that comes at the question, he cannot find the motivation to suppress it. "I'm certain you do not want the answer to that question." It is the same thing his has subsisted on for the whole of his existence. The human soul, perfectly tainted. He's been preparing his current meal the better part of three or so years now and he hopes - no, knows, the payoff will be well worth the wait. He's such a dark boy for his age - cunning, manipulative, ruthless when he needs (or wants) to be, the most entertaining master he's had in a while if only due to his age. His soul must already be a rare delicacy; he wonders how much better it will taste with age and such terrible experiences that surely await him.
Pick three items to have with you on a deserted island.
"I need nothing, I would not be there long." The very idea he would ever be trapped on a deserted island is laughable. Unless by his own master's order. It would be a simple enough task to escape the place and return to the boy's side. He can be anything and everything he wants, after all. A bird, a fish, whatever will get him back to the mainland the fastest. Although, he does have the sense to assume his current human-shaped form before returning to the boy.
Do you have any vices? If so, what are they?
He's mere feet from the desk, enigmatic smile still fixed in place. Nothing immediately, or visibly, threatening about him but the aura of the room has darkened considerably. "Oh yes, I suppose they could be considered such. Manipulation, murder, physical and psychological torture. All the good, wholesome, hobbies, you know?" His smile widens with each word, growing to a sinister grin. "Ah, and taking in stray cats, of course." He simply can't resist, and is so easily distracted by the creatures. They're just perfection given physical form.
What animal do you identify with and why?
"Ah, that's an easy one. A cat, of course." Why not? To be perfectly honest, he's closer to a vicious watchdog in his current position, but he much prefers the feline aesthetic. Such grace, such beauty, and such potential for violence. He has seen what house cats will do to small rodents, and it is endearing, how very vicious they can be. So many little creatures torn to pieces and left to bake in the sun, he can identify with that, for sure. "They're beautiful creatures, and deadly if you're a pest."
If you could possess any superpower or ability, what would it be?
What a ridiculous question. "Are you implying I'm not already gifted enough?" He smirks, and there's a change in his eyes. The subdued red giving way to a brighter glow, the pupils shrinking to slits. It is more fun, now, to try intimidation than to try coming across as harmless and the young Earl is not present to reign him in. So he can have all the fun he likes. It isn't as if he has much of an image to maintain, right? This is not London, there is no danger of their usual enemies finding them, or finding out more than they should about what, exactly, he is. "Should I demonstrate?" He will not sink to revealing his true and shifting form for someone so unworthy, but there are many other things he could do to leave a lasting impression.
If you could settle down anywhere in the world, where would it be? Why?
"By my master's side, in London. We have unfinished business there." And that is putting it lightly. If he ever hopes to complete the current contract, and finally relieve his ever-growing hunger, they must return home so the boy can carry out his revenge. Certain recent events may complicate that, of course, but they will simply have to deal with the situation at hand. Unless they take too long in returning and the other one takes over in their absence. Sebastian is uneasy with that idea as his young master's title is what affords him the ability to move so freely as he does. What would happen, if he is forced to relinquish the title and his position as the Queen's watchdog?
Tell us a scent that makes you happy, and explain why?
By the time the question is finished, he's made it to the desk. His smile widens, revealing far too many sharp teeth, as he leans in, "The rich, metallic, scent of gallons of human blood, because I know it is my own doing." His voice is a rich, dark, purr. It is such a pleasant scent, and he recalls the scene the day he formed his current contract. A room full of sniveling humans, so terrified by the very power they'd hoped to control. The vision of pieces flying, red coating the floor, the walls, every surface it could reach. Oh, he hadn't had so much fun in a very long time and it had been so nice to really let loose.
Give us one sentence to describe yourself.
In an instant, he's returned to his original spot, just feet from the door, pleasant mask fixed firmly back in place. A single sentence? Really? After all they had asked they want just one little sentence to sum him up? "Me? I am, simply, one hell of a Butler." It is his favorite little pun, after all, how can he possibly resist such a perfect opportunity? If the want to reduce the whole of what he is, currently, to something so short and simple, he can think of nothing better.